


A Reaction

by BastardSirius



Series: Puppy Love Playlist Challenge [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 22:30:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8771893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BastardSirius/pseuds/BastardSirius
Summary: “What do you want from me?” Remus whispered after a few moments, doing his best to sound calm.“REACT,” Sirius shouted, and Remus almost made a move to get away from him, but stopped himself. Sirius took a step back instead. “Do something. Say something. I feel like I’m living with a ghost!”





	

**Author's Note:**

> Author’s Note: I have given myself a challenge to write an S/R fic or ficlet out of every song on a random playlist I have. This is the second one. With this one I actually have been seeing flashes of their lives, but I do a lot of disjointed pieces already, so I chose to instead attempt a more “talking about the past” style. I hope it worked! Oh and one last thing: First half has barely any dialogue. You have been warned! Please enjoy and as always, C&C welcome. :)

 

_I'm sorry that I brought it up_

_It's not nice to piss you off_

_And I know, I know, I know_

_That I was poking_

_And sort of prodding_

_And kind of hoping_

_And always watching_

_For a reaction_

_A reaction_

_Are you watching?_

_Watching, are you watching?_

_Or just waiting to see?_

 

Indie Queens Are Waiting - Dan Mangan

 

_Down the road and on the right-hand side_

_There's a place I sometimes like to dine_

_Coffee refills far as I can see_

 

Remus gave the waitress a small smile as she poured more coffee into his mug. He preferred tea but he had been coming to this American coffee shop lately, grateful for their seemingly endless supply of free coffee refills.

He sipped his coffee slowly and kept writing down on the parchment. The pen gave out more ink than intended and left a stain on the paper. It wasn’t a big blot so he just wiped the pen on a napkin and continued writing. As he did, he recalled how Sirius and James had first reacted when they had seen a pen. They had been fascinated. Somehow, the fact that it ran out and sometimes malfunctioned had made it even more interesting to them. They had played with and tested the pens Remus had brought to school with him for a good few days before accepting them as an intriguing -  but rather sensible - piece of muggle invention.

Remus smiled softly at the memory. Back in those days, his friends had been constantly hungry for information and new experiences. He had told them once or twice that they had hyperkinetic impulse disorder but they’d laughed it off as one of ‘Moony’s loony muggle expressions’.

Everything out of the ordinary (for a teenage wizard) had fascinated them. Sirius’ Animagus form had been laughably accurate to his personality. Even before they had achieved the transformations, Sirius perked up often like a hunting dog that had caught a scent: Anything to learn something new, to experience something different than the moment before.

 

_Are you watching me?_

_Are you watching, are you?_

_Are you watching?_

 

Remus glanced around as if he expected Sirius to approach him, asking what the calculator on the table was, and why Remus was writing down notes in a muggle cafe’. He wondered what Sirius was doing, where he was.

Since he’d escaped (thanks to Harry) from the Dementor’s Kiss, Sirius had sent him two owls in total. One had been a small piece of parchment that just said “OK”. The second was in his pocket right now. He’d been keeping it close to himself since he received it. “Moony” was all it said.

Every now and again Remus could _swear_ he felt Sirius’ presence or heard Padfoot’s bark. He’d never find him, though, and the feeling would disappear too quickly to be real unless Sirius was apparating in and out of his apartment without a sound, somehow. He knew that couldn’t be true - he would have heard the light pop of an apparation if Sirius had done that - but part of him was stuck on the idea that Sirius would come to him. Sirius couldn’t stay away, could he?

Maybe Sirius was watching him right now, concealed as a muggle at a table close by, watching and waiting until his polyjuice potion ran out and he would need to leave.

It gave Remus a small piece of comfort to think that Sirius may be watching him or Harry. He hated thinking of the most likely situation Sirius was in - in a cave, eating rats as he had done until that night at the Shrieking Shack. The image of a crouched over, starving, freezing Sirius in a cave was crystal clear in his mind somehow even though he had never seen it in person. He could see Sirius’ guilt eating him alive.

 

_Or just waiting to see_

_That your days are numbered?_

_'Cause my days are numbered too_

 

Might even be waiting for death, now that there was virtually no way to catch Worm— Pettigrew, he corrected himself in his own train of thought. No longer a friend, no longer “Wormtail”. Sirius had always been melodramatic. He remembered how desperate and depressed Sirius had been after The Prank. He had gotten quite angry back then: Remus was the one who had the right to be depressed and upset, the one that needed comforting. Instead Sirius had focused on his own self-pity.

 

_Are we cool now?_

_Are we cool?_

 

They had eventually made up of course, but Remus had been bitter for a long time at Sirius’ selfishness. Even as he had apologized he had kept talking about how he was so sorry and that he didn’t deserve his friendship or love. No question about how could he help Remus. Just asking for forgiveness.

Remus took another sip of his coffee and found that there was no more bitterness in his heart at all. It surprised him slightly. It had been a while since he had thought about these things and he had expected the familiar anger to rear its head when he did. But no, there was no sourness in his thoughts of Sirius. He _had_ truly forgiven him.

He could think of Sirius and the only ache in his heart was that of longing. No pain, no thoughts of betrayal. His thoughts weren’t even lingering on the sting of not being trusted. He just wished he could be around him again. Remus wondered if there was a way he could convince Sirius and Dumbledore that Remus should accompany him on the run. He knew a lot of spells that could be quite useful, and he could learn more.

He felt as he had as a teenager. Trying to get Sirius’ attention, trying to get him to like him. Long before he had felt the desire to kiss Sirius, he’d had the desire to be around him, to be his friend.

 

_Bus down to the local record store_

_Buy something to make you like me more_

 

Remus recalled how he had came back to Hogwarts for their fourth year with a copy of “Diamond Dogs” and a charmed record player to play it on. He’d presented it to the Marauders but his eyes had been fixed on Sirius’ face to see his reaction.

“That’s bloody brilliant, mate,” Sirius had exclaimed after listening to the first two songs and Remus had beamed for days.

 

* * *

 

Eventually - finally - Sirius did find his way to Remus’ doorstep. He mumbled something about Dumbledore’s orders and staying with Remus for a while. For the first few days, Sirius was hesitant. His years without meaningful human contact were apparent as he was all stolen glances and nervous chuckles.

Remus, for his part, was more collected than he thought he would be. He was acting as though nothing had happened. As though nothing had ever happened between them. They had been friends at school and now his old friend was visiting him and needed some help getting clothes and food. Perfectly ordinary.

 

* * *

 

As Sirius grew more accustomed to staying in his human form (except for when he slept) and relaxed as much as he could in his old family home, he had tried a few times to bring out the Moony in Remus. He’d first attempted a few jokes that made Remus smile and shake his head. Then he’d tried pranking Remus a few times. He had looked exceptionally proud of his tea cup prank where he’d cast a spell on all the tea cups in the house to very, very slowly move away from Remus if he reached for them. Remus - first growling and frustrated - had rewarded him with a loud chuckle in the end, but Sirius could tell that his heart hadn’t been in it.

Although Sirius was getting his courage back, he still was a shell of his former self and wasn’t quite brave enough to have an honest talk with Remus. He didn’t dare bring up what had happened when he was at Remus’ place. He was too afraid to speak about anything not superficial or about Harry. But he knew the remedy for that.

So he drank.

 

_I'm sorry that I brought it up_

_It's not nice to piss you off_

 

“Why won’t you ask me?” Sirius asked Remus as he walked into the kitchen, back from a grocery trip. Sirius’ tone was dripping with accusation.

“Ask you what, Padfoot?”

“Stop calling me that when you don’t mean it,” Sirius growled back. Sirius saw Remus’ eyes land on the half-empty bottle of firewhiskey on the table. “Yes, I’ve been drinking,” Sirius replied to Remus’ unspoken thoughts, “What of it? I’m a grown man. You should be grateful, really. You know what they say; firewhiskey is the poor man’s veritaserum. You could ask me now and I wouldn’t have the control to stop myself from saying whatever is on my mind.”

“Not sure if you ever had that control to begin with,” Remus said softly, shaking his head and smiling nervously.

“Very funny, Moony.”

“So you get to call me Moony, but I can’t call you Padfoot?” Remus sounded intrigued as he raised an eyebrow and stared at Sirius expectantly.

“I still see you as Moony. You don’t see me as Padfoot.”

“Why do you say that?” Remus couldn’t deny that it was true. Although his heart still skipped a beat when he saw Sirius’ face, he didn’t see the young boy he had fallen in love with when he looked at the broken man before him. He willed himself not to. He couldn’t go down that road again…

“Why won’t you ask me what you really want to ask me?” Sirius shot back.

“I don’t know what you want me to ask.” He really didn’t.

“Ask me why I thought you were the traitor,” Sirius replied casually and took another sip from the bottle. He coughed twice after and shook his head like a dog.

Remus sighed. “Why are we talking about this? I thought we’d decided to leave the past behind us.”

“ _You_ did. _You_ decided. I never had an option.” Sirius laughed bitterly until his laughter turned into a cough and died. “Of course you did. Never deals with anything, our Moony. Just moves on if something isn’t to his liking.” He looked up at Remus, drunk eyes trying their hardest to focus. Remus could see the darkness in his eyes that seemed to appear more and more often lately. “The past is all that I have, Remus. It’s everything to me. It’s what I think of every day and every night.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” Remus sighed after several moments of contemplation.

 

_And I know, I know, I know_

_That I was poking_

_And sort of prodding_

 

“I want you to be honest with me. I want you to be angry with me. I want you to demand answers to questions I know you have.”

“I don’t have questions,” Remus lied and started putting groceries in cupboards.

“You never were a good liar Remus, not when it came to me,” Sirius whispered, somehow right behind Remus now.

Remus took a deep breath and turned around. He tried not to react to Sirius’ alcohol breath but he couldn’t stop his nose from moving and huffing. “I… I know why you suspected me.”

“Do you, now?” Sirius asked sardonically.

Remus sighed. “I’m a werewolf, Sirius, in case you had forgotten.”

It was Sirius’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “You’ve been one for as long as I’ve known you.”

“Well yes but it’s— it’s different as children. When we left school you saw what that meant. What my life was like.” Remus’ voice was small and if Sirius had not been drunk, he would have let it go, or perhaps tried to hug him.

Instead, he put his hand on the cupboard behind Remus, right next to Remus’ head with a loud bang and trapped the werewolf between himself and the counter. “And?” he demanded.

Remus sighed again and looked around at the floor as if waiting for a sign for what to say. “I’m not sure of the exact reason,” he said slowly, “Either you thought I wanted better rights for - for my kind - or maybe thought I just wanted to be with them, independent of what the ministry became.”

“How long are you going to hold it over me?”

“What, thinking I was a traitor?” Remus seemed surprised at the question. “I’m not holding over you.”

“Being a werewolf. Everything in our relationship always has to be about you being a werewolf. If I look at someone for a few too many seconds, self-hating werewolf Remus Lupin says I deserve better than him. If I give him any money, it’s charity for poor old werewolf Remus. If I want Remus to fuck me it wouldn’t be right because his werewolf strength might hurt me. _Everything_ is always about that, isn’t it?”

Remus’ eyes grew wide and he looked around to make sure nobody was close by. His lips moved but no sound came out. He didn’t know what to say. Most of all he was surprised at how Sirius was having this fight as his younger self - he was speaking in present tense about fights they had had more than a decade ago. It was almost as if they were in a memory.

“What do you want from me?” Remus whispered after a few moments, doing his best to sound calm.

“REACT,” Sirius shouted, and Remus almost made a move to get away from him, but stopped himself. Sirius took a step back instead. “Do something. Say something. I feel like I’m living with a ghost!”

“It’s fine, really, I’m not angry—” Remus said, dismissing Sirius but didn’t manage to finish his sentence before Sirius cut him off.

 

_And kind of hoping_

_And always watching_

_For a reaction_

_A reaction_

 

“BE ANGRY!” Sirius shouted again. “Moony I— I’m going to lose my mind. I need you back. I can’t have this walled off Remus again. I can’t. I’ve waited enough — much too long if you ask me.” As he spoke, his words got softer and sadder. “I need you back. When you don’t react it feels — I feel rejected. Every time you walk past me with a polite smile and nod it _kills_ me. How do you not see that? I watch for any sign that you still care - _hoping_ that I still stand a chance. And you prove again and again that I don’t.”

“Sirius,” Remus whispered and closed the small distance between them, their faces inches apart now, and tips of their shoes touching. “Sirius you _have_ me.”

Sirius didn’t reply, only blinked slowly and kept looking at Remus with desperation in his eyes.

Remus licked his lips. “Promise me,” he heard himself whisper. He didn’t know himself what promise he needed.

“Promise you what?” Sirius replied, confused.

“Promise me it will be OK.” Remus’ eyes were filled with unshed tears now.

“It will be OK,” Sirius whispered back, anger and confusion gone from his face.

And then Remus kissed him. Gently, at first, scared as if it was his first kiss as a thirteen-year-old. Unsure. When Sirius tilted his head and kissed back fiercely, the gentleness was gone. The desperate lust he knew all too well came out and they clung to each other kissing for minutes, only stopping for a few moments to breathe every now and again. Remus didn’t know how to talk about the past with words, but he was trying to tell Sirius with his lips and tongue.

They went upstairs to Sirius’ room. Wordlessly, they shed their robes and moved to the bed, lips locked together every second they practically could be and their hands wandering on each others’ bodies.

With every kiss, every touch, they tried to tell each other silently what they could not say out loud.

 

_I’ve missed you._

 

_I love you._

 

_I am so sorry._

 

_I’m hurt._

 

_This feels right._

 

_Never leave._

 

_I love you._

 

_I love you._


End file.
